After some sniff inspections, I decided the worst offender was the garbage can. When I removed the almost full bag, I discovered the real problem was rotting at the bottom.
So I did what any self-respecting person should do.
I made coffee and prayed for a housekeeper.
After I had finished my first cup and noticed my maid failed to report for duty, I scrubbed the nastiness with hot soapy water.
Now, it’s not a tall trash can, but the task still required my face holes to get more intimate with the container than I’d have liked. And just thinking about yucky things tends to make me gag. Repeatedly.
The 11-year-old was eating cereal watching me scrub. “I don’t know how you do that disgusting stuff.”
And right on cue, little Miss 7-year-old said-screamed, “She’s a farmer. That’s how!”
As always, thank you for reading all the way to the end.
Hey, I almost forgot, I’m now on Instagram too. And Snapchat, but I don’t want to talk about that.